This Is Our Story
by Nobody XIII
Summary: Please listen to our story... This may be our last chance." The summoner Shana and his guardians must stop Sin, no matter what the cost. But can the young cleric go up against fiends, a Maester, and the very sect he serves under? (A retelling of FFX)
1. Pro: Prelude

In the distance, the sun was setting on the desolate city of Zanarkand. Once a grand metropolis, it was now nothing more than a fragment of its former glory. Flaming rays of sunlight shone on the crumbling stone walls of yesteryear, setting the formations ablaze with the fading light of day. Scattered amongst the depressingly gray ruins and weathered walls were flowing streams of pyre-flies, the essence of souls. The rivers of spiritual energy sparkled and shimmered like a miniature version of the midnight sky, winding through the city of the dead before ascending somewhere above the clouds.

But, outside of the dilapidated city, a pile of weaponry lay atop a mound of earth, left casually a few feet away from the flickering campfire at the rocky hillock. The two tallest weapons in the pile, both of which stood upright, were a sword with a black hilt and a water-like blade, and a long, slender staff ornamented with an intricately designed gold insignia. At these two weapons' base were many other tools, such as a pair of guns, a doll, and a spear.

Near the earthen hill, around the dancing flames of the campfire, sat seven weary travelers, pilgrims from far away. Each one of them wore a face of deep sadness, their faces wrinkled with worry and regret. Farthest away from the fire sat a boy in white robes tinted with red, staring out at the sunset. His features were contorted with longing as he gazed at the horizon, his lips slanted downward in a frown, and his eyes glassy with tears yet to be spilt. Suddenly, another male walked beside him, stopping momentarily. The two boys looked into each other's eyes, gray meeting brown, before the shorter-haired boy placed a comforting gloved hand on his shoulder. The youth garbed in robes of red and white nuzzled his face into the affectionate act, before the other left him to walk up the stony hill.

"_Please...listen to our_ _story. This may be our last chance."_

_

* * *

_

**Final Fantasy X - This Is My Story**

_**"Lurking for a thousand years...  
**__**A great terror arose from the deep. It swept across the world.  
**__**After long past, it still lingers. Destiny cannot be denied.  
**__**The burden grows heavier.  
**__**To the Kingdom of the Sun, across the seas, into the unknown.**_

_**The journey begins."**_

"**Final Fantasy X - This Is My Story"** is half a retelling of the popular PS2 game, and half my own version of it. Though the story may not differentiate too much from the original, aside from characters, I am not writing it to be original, or try something new. I am writing for my own enjoyment, and hopefully other people's. I do not claim to have thought up any of the original's plot, nor do I claim the characters, which, by the way, will not be making an appearance in my story (aside from a few aeons).

Now, if that takes care of all of the legal issues, or people issues, let's continue. And to make it clear, Final Fantasy X (c) Square-Enix.


	2. Ch1: Shallow Waters of Besaid

"_Free me, pray to the faith in the face of the light. Feed me, fill me with sin, and get ready to fight."_

"Shana..."

"_Hope dies, and you wonder . . . The other world, it makes you. Dreams, they rip asunder. The other world hates you."_

"Shana... Oh, for Yevon's sake," The person speaking sighed heavily, growing more annoyed at each passing moment. "Wake up, you lazy bum!"

With a sharp kick and a loud cry, the deed was accomplished. Shana Lunette, fledgling summoner, was awake and out of bed. The young boy rubbed his sore, banged up head, while his eyes slowly adjusted to the light of morning. The newborn morning's first rays shone through the cracks in his bamboo blinds, filling the small bedroom with broken rays of light.

Stumbling clumsily to his feet, the boy smoothed out his white shirt and loose bed-pants. While the young woman who had literally kicked him out of bed busied herself with his vanity mirror, he moved to make his bed. "Do you always have to be so..." He began, but was cut short as the intruder interrupted.

"Wonderful? Sexy? ...Yes. Yes, I do."

Briruru Anne Darcly, dancer and mistress of the black arts, smirked up at the slightly taller pilgrim, their clothes reflecting the telltale differences in their personalities. While Shana's clothes were light and tried not to be too flashy, his companion's garb was just the opposite. Dressed in black from top to toe, she wore a barely legal _thigh-length _skirt, and her bosom was lifted by the combined efforts of a tight top and bra; she was dressed to be dark, mysterious, and alluring. Her short hair, going through all the shades of darkness there was, fell haphazardly around her face, framing it exotically with just the flair of beauty she needed.

"I was going to say extreme, but tomato, _tomahto_," The apprentice summoner said, walking over to his small wooden table at the corner of his hut. Reaching up to the silken rope that ran through his shack, he pulled off a pair of black leggings and his white temple robe, which was tented with red along the edges. Throwing the entire outfit together as quickly as possible, he inspected his appearance one last time in the dusty mirror on his wood table, thumping at the tips of his long soft chestnut locks. "Okay. I'm...ready," the boy stated wearily, waltzing over to the fur-pelt covered exit of his small home. "Coming, Bri?"

The black mage's face lit up, her purple painted lips tugging upwards in a smile. "Right behind you! Wait; let's drop by my hut _really _quick. I have to pick up Juliet."

* * *

"Oh my!"

Several worried whispers flew amongst the small crowd gathering at the village gate. Hushed voices were all murmuring things along the lines of 'Is he alright?' 'Should we alert the temple?' 'Who is he?' The crowd was edgy in anticipation around a central point, an outsider.

At the entrance, beside one of the towering purple spires serving as fence posts, lay an injured man curled into a small ball against the pain of his wounds. His short brown hair was disheveled and dirtied from hard travel, and he had an injury on his shoulder from which blood flowed, staining his garments crimson.

A hairless, dark-skinned man in the crowd went to the young man's side, resting a hand on the boy's uninjured shoulder. "Are you alright?" he asked, checking the man's pulse in his wrist before attempting to lift his arm over his shoulder. Blood soon stained the balding elder's green robes, turning the fibers a purplish, sickly shade.

"Y-yes, we were-were attacked by Sin...I was sent here from The Crusaders . . . Your temple asked for a Guardian . . ." The young man rasped, wincing as another robed man with red hair came to his aid, lifting his arm onto his shoulder as well. The two men helped him into the village, carrying him towards the Crusader's hut.

Blood spilled so freely from his injuries that even as the two men moved him towards safety, he left a trail of blood behind him. As the priests carried him off out of sight, the crowd slowly broke apart, gossiping amongst themselves. A few people thought the man wouldn't make it to the hut, while others thought he was an Unsent.

Meanwhile, while the young Crusader was being dragged to the vivaciously colored shack called home by the village Crusaders, the apprentice summoner, Shana, and his mage companion were just exiting her hut, across from the Crusaders'.

"I swear, Bri, that doll is so . . . Eerie . . . It's frightening." Shana said, shuddering as he looked down at Briruru's weapon of choice - a gothic marionette named Juliet. The tiny puppet's head turned towards the white robed boy, her constantly smiling face appearing more evil than usual. Shana shivered again, turning away from the doll. He couldn't bare looking at her malice-filled yellow eyes.

And that was when he saw the man being dragged away. "Bri, look!" He cried, slapping at the girl's naked shoulder. Turning to see what was so important, Briruru watched as the black priest and his aid moved a bleeding man into the Crusder's lodge. She placed her hand on her hip, tightening her hold on Juliet as the doll, too, turned to look at him like her mistress.

"And?"

Shana stared at his friend for a few moments incredulously, then at the doll. Then to Briruru, and again to the doll. He finally gave up on trying to make sense of either of them, shaking his head dumb-founded, and ran after the priests. Bri, or perhaps it was the devilish little doll, giggled girlishly before the black-clad woman ran after her cleric friend.

* * *

"Brother McCowan, please let me through." The robed man had been told to not let anyone pass, much to Shana's irritation. "Surely Father Leon would allow _me_ to see the wounded man!" The pilgrim had to act fast. If he didn't get Brother McCowan out of the way peacefully, then Briruru would do it by force when she showed up. It was for the priest's own good, truthfully.

The red-headed man turned to look at his superior. Nodding, the priest gave Shana the okay to come into the room filled with beds. Brother McCowan stepped aside, and Shana rushed past him. Before the priest could go back to guarding the doorway, Briruru zipped by as well, stepping on the man's foot in the process. It took a lot of spiritual strength for him to keep from cursing the woman spitefully.

"Father! What has happened?" Shana asked, looking down at the wounded youth. He crouched down beside the bed, looking in the man's face. He had lost a lot of blood. No doubt, he was a victim of a fiend attack. A coyote was probably responsible for these wounds, or possibly a Garuda . . . Some of the injuries ran deep, and he needed to be healed right away if he wanted to live.

"This man," The elder began, dropping the boy's arm to allow the younger men to take him inside, "Is the guardian we asked the Crusaders for. He claims his ship was attacked by Sin..." The dark man said grimly, the lines around his old eyes crinkling as his expression turned into an expression of age and sadness.

Shana immediately pieced together the puzzle. By the grace of Yevon, the man washed up on the Besaid shore. Then, he must have made his way along the path in a dazed, toxin-induced stupor, being attacked by the fiends along the road. He had probably gotten some cuts during Sin's attack, and the scent of blood would have attracted those monstrous creatures like a fly to honey. Now, however, not only did the Crusader need to be healed, but something had to be done about Sin's toxins as well.

Father Leon nodded, and left Shana alone with the man. On his way out, he took hold of Briruru and dragged her out was well. Shana would need total concentration to do this. The cleric sat down on the floor beside the bed, looking into the face of this man who so desperately needed his help. This man . . . To look so helpless, and strong all at once, impressed Shana. He felt an instant tug within his soul. One which he had not felt since . . . There was no time for this.

Moving his hands around, holding them aloft before cupping them in front of him, forming a circle, the cleric chanted a healing spell. An air of magic circulated through the room, before the young man pushed his hands forward. "_O Yevon, heal this body. Ease the suffering of body and mind . . ._" He prayed, focusing on the toxins flowing through the man. Whenever someone encountered Sin, the dark aura of the beast left a dangerous poison in his or her veins. This spell, Esuna, could remedy that somewhat.

A shaft of light the shade of violets and amethyst radiated around the bed, while a current of shimmering blue magic slowly flowed upward from the man's body. Esuna had taken effect. Though the toxin would still rob some of the man's memory, it was no longer fatal. Focusing once more, the apprentice summoner conjured up another healing spell. An aura of pale blue light enveloped the young man, closing up the bleeding gash in his shoulder. The pilgrim smiled; this man was saved.

"Yay. You played healer-boy. Now c'mon, we're late!" Briruru chided. She had broken past the dark-skinned man and witnessed the entire healing ritual. Grasping Shana's arm firmly, she forced him to his feet. Before she could drag him out of the room, he looked down into the man's face once more. His face wasn't contorted in pain as much as it was now. Barely opening his eyes, Shana saw what would stick in his memory for a long time.

_'Brown eyes. Rich and lively, just like his . . .'_

"Bah. A woman like that is no good for this village," the elder cursed under his breath, glaring at the entrance to the large shack as the black mage left, the fledling-summoner in tow. The other man snickered, grinning up a storm at the older man.

"Conflict with your daughter, Leon?"


	3. Ch2: The Crusader

_Throb. Throb._ _Throb. Throb._

The constant pounding in his head was killing him. Behind his eyelids, flashes of light were going off all over his line of vision, and the vessels in his head were throbbing and pulsing. Never in his life had he had such a migraine.

'_Grah . . . I think I've been hit by a Shoopuff._ _Wait . . . Worse . . .'_

Slowly, Shuyin Mako became aware of his surroundings, as well as the previous day's events. While he took in the view of the roomy Crusader's lodge, and its mass supply of beds, his memory slowly, painfully, came back.

* * *

"_How much longer until we reach Besaid, captain?" a short haired man asked, peering into the captain's cabin. His handsome face was accented perfectly by his sandy hair, drawing out the dusky brown in his eyes, and his chin was decorated with stubble and whiskers. Sticking his hands into his faded and torn jeans' pockets, he leaned against the railing of the doorway._

"_Not too much longer, boy. Ya best_ _go down below and get some rest. You're going there as a hired guardian, no? Gonna be a hard trip . . . Might as well rest up while you can, mah boy," the captain said over his shoulder, turning his bearded face toward the youth. The dark-haired man nodded to the captain, before leaving the doorway and going out onto the deck._

"_Guardian . . ." Shuyin mumbled. He looked around his surroundings, taking in the night sky. Above, the heavens were lit up with thousands of stars, while the moon hung perfectly at the center of it all; below, the ocean's crystalline waters_ _mirrored the image perfectly. With the world around seeming so vast, he felt like a speck of dust in the cosmos. _

'_I wonder if I'm really cut out to be a guardian,' he wondered to himself. Ever since he left from the Luca Crusader HQ, he had been plagued with doubts about his abilities as a Crusader and would-be guardian. He locked his hands together behind his head, kicking at the wooden flooring beneath him as he continued to analyze the thoughts in his head once more. He kept wondering how he measured up to legendary guardians like Sir Jet, who protected the last High Summoner and was only 14 at the time, and Lady Sanders, who died protecting High Summoner Lady Miranda. But besides those uncertainties, he also wondered about the summoner he was being hired to protect. Rumor said that the summoner was a relation to another one of the last High Summoner's guardians, but he didn't know if that was true. Sighing heavily, he decided to ponder his doubts later._

_He walked over to the railing of the ship, his boots thumping loudly against the deck, and gazed at the endless ocean before him. "I'm not afraid of anything . . . " He said quietly to himself, attempting to calm whatever worries he had in his mind as he closed his eyes serenely. The pale light of the moon above made his face look almost angelic. He loved to look at the moon like this. It was so beautiful . . . Its purpose was so sacred. Silently, it hung in the night sky, its light piercing the darkness. Not unlike the sun, but there was a key difference. The sun shone, and gave all heat. It was of fire. The moon was cold. It was pure light._

_The moon could not save him now, though. His moment of reprieve was lost. Below, the water crashed suddenly. As the vessel shook violently, he lost his footing. He nearly fell into that endless ocean he was starring at only moments ago. As he slipped and hit the deck and railing roughly, he realized what was happening. It was Sin. It was attacking._

_He was doomed._

–_I'm not afraid of anything–_

_Farther up the ship, someone was screaming 'Sin', but slowly their cries were becoming more distant as Shuyin slipped farther and farther down the deck. As the boat began to tip, he could vaguely hear the sound of water splashing somewhere_. _He then realized that sound was him falling into the sea. Water stung at his eyes and filled his mouth._

_While the toxic aura of Sin began to take effect on him, he fought to keep above water. He could see the enormous, revolting fin of Sin as the waters around him continued to surge and churn with the monster's presence. Even his body was sucked into the powerful vortex that was Sin's aura, trapping him within a fast-moving current._

_Slowly, the world around him began to become darker and darker, fading out until he slipped into unconscious. Was this death? His journey was over before it had even begun? No one would look back and say, 'Ah, Sir Shuyin! Yes, he was a great hero.' His last coherent thought before his mind shut down slipped through his fingers before he could grasp it. _

–_**I'm not afraid of anything**–_

_

* * *

_

"Man . . . I guess I'm alive; either that or the afterlife is a beach resort," he quipped, struggling to get out of the bed he was residing in. Again, he looked around the room. There was a fan on the ceiling that was moving way too slow to actually provide a cool breeze, and on the night table was his blade. Ah, trusty Flametongue would never leave his side! He knew he would be okay, as long as his fiery blade was with him. Now, he had to get out of this bed and see just where in Spira he was. Shrugging the colorful blankets off of him, he realized just how badly his head hurt when the floor creaked under his feet and made a sledgehammer pound on his skull.

Curious noises came from the front of the hostel, alerting Shuyin that he was not alone. A woman from the front desk, wearing a blue Crusader uniform and metallic mask over the top half of her face, walked toward the back area of the lodge where the young Crusader was. She covered her mouth in awe, looking Shuyin over through the eye holes in her mask. "You seemed to have recovered quickly! Wait right here, I need to go get someone," the desk clerk said, stumbling over her words. Shuyin couldn't figure out why she was so flustered. He wasn't bad-looking, but he certainly wasn't worth such a fuss . . . Was he? Then, he looked down, and realized why she had been blushing. He was practically naked! Bandages were wrapped around his midriff, and he was clad in nothing but his undergarments. She quickly retreated to the front of the lodge and out the beaded curtain serving as a door.

Shuyin wrapped a blanket around himself, and walked to the front desk of the inn, waiting around for the blue-clad woman to return. He looked around the room, familiarizing himself with it when he noticed a chunky man wearing a red and white shirt hammering on the ceiling. "Excuse me, but . . . What _are _you doing?"

"I'm fixing a hole where the rain gets in," the stocky man piped cheerfully before returning to his hammering.

"Oh," Shuyin said in reply, before the desk clerk returned. At her side was a caramel-colored man with a black dew-rag on his head. He had a very calm aura about him, from his faded yellow jacket and white T-shirt down to his sagging jeans and green sandals. The only things threatening about him were his guns and their holsters. But then Shuyin saw the little fish necklace he wore around his neck, and realized: This guy's just a beach-bum who can shoot a gun. No worries!

"Hey, yer from the Crusaders, right," he asked, holding his hand out toward Shuyin. The young Crusader nodded and extended his in kind, shaking the dew-ragged man's hand in greeting. "My name's Aaroka. Aaroka Ridgedell. And this," he said, pointing to the blushing girl in blue scurrying for the front desk, "is Ashley. So, what's yer name?"

Before Shuyin could answer, the girl in blue, Ashley, cleared her throat. "Here's some clothing . . . We thought you might like some . . ." Forcing out a somewhat embarrassed chuckle, Shuyin took the bundle of clothes he was handed and thanked Ashley. "Heheh . . . It was nothing," she oozed, grinning seductively. When she wasn't looking, the Crusader rolled his eyes, and went back into the bedroom to change into his new clothes. He was happy that Aaroka guy hadn't followed him. He wouldn't feel very comfortable changing in front of him . . .

Shuyin laid the clothes out on the bed, and gave them a once-over. Not bad, not bad . . . There was a red, sleeveless shirt, with a white forming a cross on the front; for his legs, they had given him some tight, black pants. The boots he had been wearing while he was on the boat were also with his new duds, as was his jacket. Good! He was going to be very angry if they had lost that. He'd had it since he could remember; in fact, he'd yet to really grow into it. It was camouflaged, and had its share of holes, but it was _his_, and he'd never part with it.

Once he had put on all of his new clothes, pulled on his jacket and shoes, and placed Flametongue in its scabbard, he exited the bedroom and found the dark-skinned man waiting for him. "You gonna give me a name now, padre?"

"Shuyin."

Aaroka nodded, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets. "Got a last name?"

The Crusader huffed. "Mako."

"Shuyin Mako, nice. Anyway, let's get outta here." Aaroka led Shuyin out of the lodge, past the large man fixing the hole and the blue girl drooling, and into the sunlight. Once his eyes were used to the light, Shuyin could see palms moving in the wind, and seagulls flying overhead. He must've washed up on an island.

"Well," Aaroka began, stretching his arms out, "welcome to Besaid Village!" he shouted, whirling around once to draw attention to all of the village. "It's my job to show ya around the village, man, so let's get going," he said, walking off across the dusty street.

'_Besaid? That means . . . I washed up right where I was supposed to?'_ Shuyin laughed out loud as he realized where he was. _'Talk about luck!'_

_

* * *

_

"So you're one of the summoner's guardians?"

"_Apprentice _summoner, and yeah, man. There's a couple more, to be exact, but they're already in the temple," Aaroka said, pointing toward the stony looking building at the back of the village. It had a few palm trees growing around it, and there were lots of old, damaged stone pillars jutting out of the earth. That meant this was once a sight of an old civilization. Shuyin could just picture how this place looked before Sin appeared: tall buildings, beautiful architecture, and smiling, happy people everywhere.

Aaroka and Shuyin had been walking around the village for a short time now, and Shuyin had surveyed it closely as they did. Small residential huts were scattered all amongst the village, with almost all of them having the same design on their walls as the other ones. Closer toward the temple was the 'marketplace', or so Aaroka said, with two slightly larger hovels with blue walls and roofs serving as shops. Across from the market was the Crusader's lodge, which was undoubtedly the most colorfully decorated of all the huts in the village. Not too far from the Crusader's lodge was a small area surrounded with stones, filled with tombstones; obviously it was the village graveyard. Aaroka pointed that out, anyway.

The atmosphere of the town was what stuck out most to Shuyin, though. Despair drifted over the village like a cold fog, heavy and dense. It was very apparent Besaid had fallen on tough times lately, even before Aaroka filled him in on recent events for the island. Most of the town's youths had been massacred during an attack on Sin by the Crusaders. If Sin attacked the island, there would be no way to protect it. Everyone would perish. But within this dreary fog of dread, the flowery scent of hope lingered.

Shuyin had been greeted kindly enough by the locals. Most of them had smiled and said 'hi' to him as they passed, while a few elderly folks eyed him wearily after spotting the sword and sheath hanging from his hip. Some of the village children had asked him what it felt like to be attacked by Sin, and all he could say was he couldn't remember. It was true, after all. Sin's poison robbed some of your memory if you got too close, and basically caused permanent brain damage if left untreated by medicine or white magic. He had even been hit on by a few women in the village, one of which would have been locked up if she wore her outfit in Luca.

"Okay, I think that's it," Aaroka said, scratching his head through the rag. "Oh! I guess I should introduce you to our own Crusaders. C'mon."

Aaroka and Shuyin walked toward the Crusader's lodge, but went behind it instead, heading to the graveyard. In front of the tombstones were several bouquets and other memorials and offerings to the deceased, such as portraits, beads, and jewelry, and even toys for what must've been those who had died before their time.

In front of one of the graves, a man with spiky brown hair was kneeling and praying. "Yo, Alex." Alex looked up and to the dark-skinned man. He stood up, dusting off his tattered and torn shorts, before tapping the man kneeling beside him.

"Zane, Aar's here." Alex tapped the curlier haired man praying to the same monument as Alex was seconds ago. Zane, too, stood up, and knocked the dirt off of his blue pants with zippers along the seams.

"I thoughtchu two would be here," Aaroka mumbled gloomily, looking at some of the headstones.

Zane's face darkened with sadness, as if a memory he was trying to keep suppressed came rising up to the surface of his mind. But as soon as that momentary sadness had came, it had been replaced by righteous anger. "You know that we pray for Blaine and Adam daily. I'd think . . . You'd pray daily, too, considering-" Zane was cut short as Aaroka interrupted.

"I wanted you two to meet Shuyin," he said quickly, "He's the Crusader we sent for." Zane looked beyond Aaroka to the man standing behind him; he could tell he was a Crusader the moment he saw him. But he still wasn't sure if he was worthy of his task.

Alex, attempting to calm the situation, walked past Zane and up to Shuyin, reaching for the slightly taller man's hand. "'Sup, dawg? Name's Alex," the spiky haired Crusader said, pumping Shuyin's fist. "Heard you got in it with Sin."

Scratching the back of his head, Shuyin couldn't believe word had traveled so fast. He was a little bit embarrassed, actually. Well . . . More than a little bit. It reflected poorly on his skills for him to have been defeated so easily by fiends, no matter what condition he was in. "Yeah . . . Something like that." Zane folded his arms, looking the youth over with a judging gaze.

"Be on guard," he said, pointing at the village exit. "The fiends are always on the road, and soon you'll have to leave with the summoner. It'd be a damn shame if something happened to you after surviving a Sin attack. Though . . . You must be really tough to fight your way to the village from the beach, while being under the effects of Sin's poisons." Zane's opinion on the man was up in the air; he couldn't figure out if the man was amazingly strong, or amazingly lucky.

Everyone felt more than a little uncomfortable. Shuyin didn't like this person rating him based on village gossip and his appearance. Alex detested his friend being so judgmental, while Aaroka was worried a fight was about erupt between the two any minute.

Leave it to Alex to solve the situation.

"Well, guess we gotta go back to the crib," Alex said, smirking goofily over at Zane. Cheeks beginning to glow red, Zane nodded in agreement and followed as the pointy haired Crusader walked away from the headstones reading 'Adam Harbinger' and 'Blaine Stalwart'. The two Crusaders waved as they entered the lodge in front of the cemetery.

"Let's go on over to the temple now. Sound cool with you?" Aaroka asked abruptly, walking out of the cemetery as quickly as possible without looking at the gravestones. Shuyin followed suit, but he noticed something before leaving the small graveyard. One of the graves was decorated with many garlands of roses, and on top of it was a pair of guns adorned with gold. The epitaph read: _"Melody Hawking_, _Taken Too Soon_."

It was a short walk from the lodge to the temple. Finally, Shuyin was going to meet the subject of his new contract. Before he could, though, he would have to get past Aaroka, who was blocking the doorway. He had a surprisingly serious look on his face, the likes of one Shuyin had not seen in the hour or so he had been showing him around Besaid. The brown-haired man turned to see what he was looking at, and found that from the temple, you could see several remnants of ruins: Forgotten pillars, broken murals along the village walls, and many other things only a trained eye could catch ((which was something Shuyin did not have)).

"This place wassa big city, ya know . . . With machina everywhere, and all that stuff. Besaid could still be a big place if it weren't for _Sin_," Aaroka said, spitting the name out like a bitter substance. He looked at the remains of the old Besaid sadly. "Everybody's gotta suffer cause of Sin. It ain't right!" The gun carrying man kicked one of the temple's pillars. Sandals weren't the best thing to wear when launching such an attack on old, hard stone. Aaroka knew this now, judging by how he was hopping around while rubbing his aching foot.

"I guess . . . But Sin wouldn't have come if yawl hadn't used machina for war . . ." Shuyin shrugged past the other man and into the temple. "C'mon. We don't have all day." Aaroka grudgingly agreed and followed after the Crusader into the temple. It was kind of ironic for someone who followed the Yevon teachings to have to follow a heretic into the church.

The moment he stepped into the large sanctuary, he could hear the 'Hymn of the Fayth'. The Hymn was a song sung within the temple walls, an ode to Yevon, the Forgiver. Since he had never been big on falling over himself to be first in the temples, he wasn't sure where the song was coming from. It sounded like an entire group of people was singing the Hymn, but he didn't see a choir. He decided he'd ask about the Hymn another time, and continued to wander around the temple. At the back of the temple, there was a candle-lit staircase leading upwards, surrounded by statues of very refined looking men and women.

A tall, dark-skinned man clad in green robes and a gold chain necklace approached Shuyin, clearing his throat. The dark-haired man turned to the robed man, yelping in surprise over the man's sudden appearance. "Ten years've passed since High Summoner Lord Philip defeated Sin, and finally, our temple receives a statue . . ." the man said, regarding the statue of a robed man with a staff to the right of the staircase. "My name is Father Leon, and I am the High Priest of this temple. You are the guardian we wrote to the Crusader Headquarters for, yes?"

Shuyin nodded in reply, a bit intimidated by the strong looking man. "My daughter is inside the Trials. I'm sure she'd appreciate some help."

"Well, guess we better get our butts moving," Aaroka declared, walking up the staircase. Following after him, Shuyin took his time to admire more of the temple's interior. He saw the statues of what must've been High Summoners of long past, and the large rug on the temple floor with many circles and symbols covering it. Finally, looking up, he saw the largest formations in the sanctuary. Above him were two figures, a man and scantily clad woman, built part way into the wall, meeting just above the door at the top of the stairs. Pleased with his sightseeing, he entered the 'trials'.

The door shut quickly after he stepped through, banging loudly. The Hymn was even louder in here, and the air was damp and stuffy. The only light in the long, winding hallways were the many candles lit along the walls. Shuyin was really hoping the trial wasn't a labyrinth, because he got lost easily.

"This is my first time in the Cloister of Trials," Aaroka whispered, trying to break the tension in the air. Forcing a chuckle in reply, the two began their journey through the cloisters. The hallway was a short trip, as they soon reached a dead end.

"Well ain't this 'bout a bitch?" Aaroka cursed, kicking at the floor. Meanwhile, Shuyin was looking at the wall blocking their patch. It didn't take him long to discover a possible way past it.

"Hey, I found something."

On the wall were several runes. Shuyin reached his hand out and touched them cautiously, and the moment he did, they began to glow. As the writing on the wall lit up, mirrored images of the runes appeared in the air, made out of magic and light. Shuyin began reading the mysterious writing floating before him.

"_After heeding this warning, thou shalt enter the true cloisters without any assistance._ _Do not forget that when all seems lost, the spheres of light shall open the path to the Praying Child of the Fayth."_

Once he was finished, the wall faded away, leaving sparkling shimmers of light in its wake. Aaroka's face was stuck in a look of confusion and stupidity, while Shuyin just continued making his way through the trials. "How did you read that writing?" the gunner asked, dumbfounded.

* * *

Soon, the guardians reached a pedestal with a glowing orb on it. A symbol was cut into the ball, similar in appearance to the one on the rug in the temple. Aaroka remembered the words from the wall: _The spheres of light shall open the path to the Praying Child of the Fayth._ Decided this little orb must be the 'sphere of light' the runes were referring to, he picked it up, and walked quickly down the hall, Shuyin right behind him.

Sure enough, the two men reached another dead end. The only difference from the old one was the round groove in the center, which seemed just the right size for a certain sphere. Aaroka didn't think twice about placing the glowing ball into the recess, and stood back as the wall began to rumble and shake.

"Wow!" Aaroka gasped, as the wall began to rise into the ceiling, leaving a large cloud of dust behind and opening a path toward an elevated platform. In front of it was a large piece of tapestry with the Besaid symbol on it, as well as images of avian creatures.

"I guess the priest's daughter had no choice but to go in here," Shuyin mumbled, walking slowly into the room. Aaroka followed, but, in a moment of sheer clumsiness, tripped over his baggy jeans and fell onto the platform. The gunner grunted in annoyance, and then made a few surprised keens as the platform shook; this couldn't be good. He sat up, his eyes darting around the room as the floor began to glow.

Shuyin quickly ran for the platform, having a sinking feeling in his gut that when things begin to shine in this place, it can't be too good. He hopped on it just in time, as the floor was engulfed in a white light before disappearing, much like the wall from earlier. Slowly, the platform descended, floating like a feather down to the level beneath them as the magic that made the floor fade away sparkled around them. Aaroka, visibly frightened of the trials now, made sure to cling to the disk all the way to the bottom.

They were obviously at the deepest reaches of the temple now. Shuyin had to stop in wonder how so much could fit in such a small temple, and figured that a lot of the trials were underground. The platform had landed on a bridge structure over a miniature pond, which rippled in time with the Hymn of the Fayth. It was a beautiful song, but after the thousandth time, it got old. The sooner they got out of here, the better.

He took a step forward, getting off of the platform and began crossing the bridge. All over the walls were larger paintings of the symbol found all throughout the temple. It was circular, with runes written all within it that Shuyin didn't understand. At the center were circular like glyphs, four of them to be precise, which formed a ring like formation at the heart of the large image. Shuyin stopped admiring the large glyph long enough to continue down the bridge, when he realized the Hymn had stopped. Was something wrong? Had the temple stopped working? Did he care? It did feel nice to not have the same beautiful/bizarre song playing over and over . . .

Aaroka stopped him before he could enter the door at the end of the bridge. "Wait!" Shaking off the shock from the elevator, he ran after him to catch up. "Just thought I'd letcha know . . . The guardians on the other side are . . . Well . . . One ain't got a lot of patience, and the other one . . . "

"Okay," Shuyin said, cutting him off. He entered the room beyond the large, stone double doors, with Aaroka close behind. The moment he entered, he could hear the Hymn of the Fayth again, only now it was being sung by someone with a beautiful alto voice.

Shuyin surveyed the room. It was still the same dusty stone color as the rest of the temple, but above them was a large fan made from what appeared to be giant bird feathers. At the back of the room was a staircase, with two candles burning brightly at the top, and a door leading into another room. Soon, he remembered he was not alone.

Sitting on the stone floor was a woman dressed completely in black, with short hair and an even shorter dress. Beside her, standing at attention, was a tall, dark-skinned woman with elfish ears and a horn, dressed in tribal garb with several tendrils of braids flowing from her black nest of hair. The girl in black stood up, folding her arms in front of her bosom with just the right touch of attitude.

"What're you doing here," she demanded, walking up to Aaroka. "Did you think we couldn't handle it," she asked, pushing him with each word to get her point across. Her silent companion said nothing, only glaring over at the stranger.

Aaroka stared down at the floor. "Hey now, is this any way to treat your friend . . ." He nudged Shuyin in the side with his elbow. "That's Bri; she's the one I warned you about," he whispered.

"Uhm, is the priest's daughter all right?" Shuyin asked quietly, trying to keep from having the woman's fury turn on him as well. He shrank back a bit when she turned to face him, finding fury in her pale green eyes.

"Of course I'm all right. Why wouldn't I be?" Briruru then recognized who this person was. He was wearing something different, that was for sure, but there was no doubt about it. This was the man Shana had healed before coming to the temple. He must be the Crusader her father hired.

Confusion was fixing to be the last of Shuyin's problems. "Well, if you're not the summoner, then-"

Suddenly, the door at the top of the worn staircase thundered. It opened with a booming rumble, while several translucent leaf-like objects behind it parted. Foot steps resounded through the area, and a figure appeared. It was the apprentice summoner, the boy who had helped Shuyin. It was Shana Lunette, son of the great guardian Sir Godfreid.

The boy stumbled toward the stairs, taking his first step. He became a blur of red and white as he fell, plummeting toward the floor. Aaroka and Briruru moved forward, while the elfish woman remained perfectly still. Just as he was about to strike the floor, he stopped. The long-haired brunette raised his head to find the handsome man he had healed earlier was holding him, keeping him from hitting the ground. His face grew hot as he realized how embarrassing this was, and muttered his thanks before he attempted to stand.

He stumbled, again. Giving up, he decided that leaning on this handsome crutch was the best course of action. "Bri. . . . Aar . . . Kim . . . I did it. I'm-I'm really a summoner now!" His voice was hoarse, and his hair was disheveled; the pride in his face made up for all of that. Briruru and the elfish woman, moved toward him, taking his arms into their hands and removing his weight from Shuyin as they helped him toward the exit of the room.

After they had left, Shuyin looked at Aaroka. "The summoner's a boy? Really?" he asked, incredulously. He had no complaints; the world of summoning wasn't gender biased. But he had been expecting a damsel in distress, not a boyish cleric.

"Yeah, that's Shaaana. You should talk to him later, ya know, being his guardian 'n all," Aaroka said, following after the group. Shuyin held his finger to his lips in thought for a moment, before he, too, followed after. He'd think later; he wanted out of the temple and _away _from the Hymn.

* * *

'_Man, was I surprised. I had thought, with her dad being the priest n' all, that pale-lookin' girl would be the summoner. But she was very dark, and the summoner was very . . . Male. That was when I first learned yawl can never be too sure about anything._' 


End file.
